There was always a smile on her face. She looked far less fragile than her appearance suggested. Xu Huo could tell this wasn’t a choice made under duress; she had planned this from the start.

“First, drag the General Administration Chief into it, then rope in both the General Administration and the city government forces. Whether those two steps succeed isn’t that important. Their purpose is to distract. The core plan is to open the fungal nest and infect the entire city,” he said, looking at Lang Lang. “You’ve been preparing for a long time, haven’t you?”

Lang Lang looked up at the mycelium above. “Almost twenty years. Back when my family and I were thrown into the sealed-off zone, we only survived by hiding in the underground fissures. I kept crawling deeper along the cracks. When I was hungry, I ate the fungi in the holes. Somehow, I survived.”

“My family, and my uncle’s family—my father is Lang Lang’s father—dozens of people, slowly all died. Only a few kids hid underground to escape the mutants and other infected,” Xin Hui said. “Later we discovered the fungal nest was much larger than what the General Administration Office had surveyed, and it kept growing. That’s when I realized Clown City had long been infiltrated by fungi underground; it just hadn’t been exposed.”

“And Clown City also took measures, reinforcing the ground with metal plates. The reason the city looks the way it does now is that those in the know deliberately raised the city’s height to stay away from the surface. Given the depth of the underground nest, even if the fungi corroded the hardest rock, Clown City wouldn’t be buried instantly. There would be time to escape.”

“Such a huge upheaval in Clown City—no high-level players intervened?” Xu Huo asked.

“There aren’t many high-level players in Clown City,” Xin Hui replied. “Even if there were, would a mere Clown City be able to keep them? This place was always precarious. Anyone who knew the truth either couldn’t leave or they’d already left.”

She sneered. “Player numbers here were never high. Many are outsiders who don’t feel any belonging to Clown City.”

Xu Huo nodded slightly. “But I see the General Administration Office has arranged a lot of people to hunt in the city. Clown City isn’t as weak as you think. Before long, all your people will be captured. The explosions aren’t strong enough to tear down the whole city, maybe only small areas. After dealing with your people, the General Administration Office can do the same—seal off areas. In short order they can seal the surface.”

“Too bad. Your twenty-year plan for revenge might end in a single day.”

Xin Hui’s face darkened, then she turned to Lang Lang.

Lang Lang stroked the black fungus on the rock. It had to be highly poisonous; the skin on her hand turned pitch black the moment she touched it, but the toxin faded quickly before reaching her wrist. When her hand returned to normal color, the scar at her hip also disappeared.

Xu Huo narrowed his eyes. He suddenly understood why Xin Lang remained calm even in these circumstances: she herself was a source of infection. The fungi she carried might be more than a few strains, held in balance inside her body. If she died—

Even if the underground nest failed, she could still achieve her aim through herself.

Screams and calls for rescue rose from the surface. A flash of compassion crossed Xin Lang’s face briefly, then she looked at Xu Huo. “I want to ask a favor.”

“Destroy the underground structures of Clown City?” Xu Huo asked. “Last night you sent someone to kill me, but that person came and left quickly. Today you showed up willingly; your aim must be the item I used.”

“That’s right.” Xin Lang nodded. “What happened just now proved I wasn’t wrong. But I don’t want you to destroy the whole city.”

Xu Huo raised an eyebrow. “The Protective Wall? What benefit do I get from doing that?”

“I can’t give myself to you,” Xin Lang said with a slight smile, “but I guess you didn’t follow me here for that. I can give you something else, something any player would dream of having.”

The Fate of a Spore—Xu Huo couldn’t be certain whether the spore referred to the Energy Candy on 179, and the mission lacked a specific target. The task had been triggered when they captured 179, and Xin Hui knew the underground nest. They planned to use fungi, so those people were closely related to this mission.

Xu Huo accepted the olive branch Lang Lang offered. Asking her to give her body up was only an excuse both sides could temporarily compromise on.

“Your proposal sounds tempting, but how can I trust you without seeing it?” Xu Huo said. “You heard what’s happening outside. Players from other zones may get involved. I at least need to see a gesture of sincerity.”

Lang Lang paused, then pointed to his wrist. “I can clear the fungi on your body right now. But you probably won’t trust me to operate directly. How about we talk after we get out?”

Xu Huo didn’t want to stay either. He followed the sisters back to the surface. A rescue vehicle approached and stopped in front of them. A young man opened the rear door. “Sister Lang Lang, get in quickly!”

They climbed into the vehicle, which drove straight away from the scene.

Rescue vehicles were everywhere now, so one leaving didn’t attract attention. In the chaos, the Clown City government clearly lacked manpower to control the area, and with dust everywhere, many people fled outward.

People along the way beat on the rescue vehicle trying to get on, but the driver sped up and even ran over a few citizens who had tried to block them into stopping.

“These people have benefited from the blood and tears of cleanup area warriors for twenty years. Now they should pay the price!” Xin Hui said with hard eyes.

“They received benefits unknowingly, and they’ll pay unknowingly. That’s fair,” Lang Lang said calmly.

Hearing that, Xu Huo couldn’t help but look at her again.

Lang Lang showed no change in expression. She had the young man who opened the door stretch out his hand. He was also infected with fungi: several swollen areas of different colors appeared on his arm and neck, his face flushed, his lips blackened.

“Sister Lang Lang, don’t waste your effort saving me. If I die in Clown City, maybe I can take a few others with me,” the young man joked.

Lang Lang grabbed his hand and, with her fingernail, sliced the back of her own hand. Strangely, instead of ordinary blood, something like silken threads flowed from her wound—very fine, almost invisible. Those threads ran with her blood onto the young man’s arm and seeped into the swollen breaks.

Within seconds his arm began to deflate, and the strange discoloration quickly faded. Three minutes later, all symptoms of fungal infection on him had disappeared.

“This is the good stuff I told you about.” Lang Lang turned and smiled.